Dave's Anatomy: My History As a Writer #108: Imagining Song: "Suzanne"

Cover for the single of "Suzanne"

Music informs my writing. I am a musician, I play guitar, mandolin, and banjo, and I perform locally. From the onset, my writing has explored themes related to music. From one of my earliest publications, "Son of a Preacher Man" (after an old song by sixties singer Dusty Springfield) to "What Debussy Wrote for the Guitar," to my novella The Last Minstrel, music has motivated my imagination. In 2013, I got the idea for another such story, "Suzanne."

"Suzanne" became a best-selling and signature song for folk artist Judy Collins. It was written by Canadian songwriter, the late Leonard Cohen and has been recorded by more artists than any of his other songs ("Hallelujah" included). Cohen's is also a poet, and his song lyrics reach the level of poetry at times. "Suzanne" always intrigued me. It's about someone who is in love with Suzanne. She lives in a house by the sea from which you can see the Statue of Liberty; a lot of what he (I assume it's a guy narrating the song) says about her is enigmatic. They apparently have a live-in relationship. But the lyrics say, "You know that she's half-crazy, and that's why you want to be there." The chorus is enigmatic. It repeats (and is the only rhyming line in the poem), And you want to travel with her and you want to travel blind / And you think that you can trust her, for she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

The guy stays with her for some reason, something she gives him. It has some other lines that are hard to interpret. Here's another stanza of the song. Speaking of Suzanne, it says

… she shows you where to look amid the garbage and the flowers.

There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning.

They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever

While Suzanne holds the mirror.

I puzzled over the lyrics for years. My interpretation is that Suzanne is speaking the two middle lines. In other words, she is indeed "half-crazy," perhaps from drugs. The two lines are her half-crazy talk. But the narrator of the song stays with her for some reason. I think—again, my interpretation—that he too is so burned-out, disillusioned about life, and so rootless that he finds something appealing in Suzanne's insanity.

So the story: Sossity Chandler is filming a video beside the Ohio River. She stays behind to enjoy some privacy, goes for a walk, and runs into a girl who recognizes her and says she's a fan of her music. Sossity accepts an invitation to go into her riverside cabin. The girl has a guitar and requests a song. Sossity plays her first hit and most popular song, "Cloud Shadows." The girl, named Deidre, says she listened to her music. The song "Cloud Shadows," she says, always sends her messages and helps her read what is written in the clouds.

At that moment, her boyfriend appears. He and Sossity talk in private. He informs her that Deidre is recovering from a breakdown due to hallucinogenic drugs. She is improving, he says, noting that a year ago she was "stark, raving mad." Sossity sympathizes. When they go back inside, Deidre is painting. She is an artist of considerable skill. Sossity talks with her, says she likes her art (which is indeed remarkable) and says she would like to see her again. She feels a pang of guilt then:

Sossity felt disgusted by her words and the patronizing tone of her voice, which sounded like how she would speak to a small child. Deidra Bennett was a woman and human being, not someone to whom you must speak in slow, deliberate phrases so she could understand. “I like it a lot. Your art is beautiful. So are you. Can I come back and see you sometime?”

Consulting more with her boyfriend, she promises to get them tickets to a small concert she is doing in Philadelphia in a few months, Deidre cannot handle big crowds, her boyfriend says, but a small venue would be fine. It would help her get more in contact with the exterior world. She asks Alan, her boyfriend, what he does for a living. He replies: I take care of her. I had a job in marketing for a firm in Philly. After I met her, I left to live here. It’s a better deal than what I had. And, of course, I love her. 

The content of Cohen's song is repeated and done as a variation in my story.

Sossity leaves. Once again, her status of a celebrity singer has brought her in contact with the truths of human existence—with the drama that plays out over the word all the time but of which we witness so very little.

The story appeared in Foliate Oak. You can read it here.

For additional titles, see my Writer's Page.

I would love to hear your comments.